


Don't Want to Waste More Time (I'm In a New York State of Mind)

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magic restored, family safe, and reunited once again, Emma and Killian spend some time exploring New York City.  (Missing Scene from 5.23)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Want to Waste More Time (I'm In a New York State of Mind)

**Author's Note:**

> Title shamelessly stolen from the song "New York State of Mind." Also, in case anyone was wondering, the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, where Finding Neverland performs, is actually located on 46nd Street, right across from the Richard Rodgers Theatre. I wasn't making that up!

“Did you see Times Square the last time you were here?”

“Aye, in passing. That’s the place with the bright lights, yes?

“Yeah.” A pause. “Would you like to see it again?”

“If you so desire, then sure.”

Point of destination chosen, they make their way hand-in-hand down the remain distance of 8th Avenue, cutting through 46th Street and the hordes of people gathered outside the Richard Rogers Theatre stage door in hopes of getting an autograph from their favorite Broadway stars. Killian face pulls into a frown when he notices the venue on the other side of the street, the title _Finding Neverland_ printed across the marquee in golden, block letters, and he mutters something about being unable to understand this realm’s mistaken obsession with Neverland. Emma refrains from telling him that she took Henry to this very show during their year here, that the boy held a certain fondness of Neverland that she couldn’t place, but now assumes stems from the characters’ influence on his life. Instead, she just squeezes his hand and tells him Neverland wasn’t all that terrible, if only because she kissed a particularly dashing pirate there. He laughs at that, a beautiful sound, and tells her that he can give better memories of kisses on this land.

Then, he does kiss her, long and hard and full of promise. He leaves her breathless, much like she felt after their first. Still, Emma doubts anything could replace that first moment when they realized neither could "handle it."

It is his turn to squeeze back and gasp when they shuffle out of the slightly darkened street onto the blazing pavement of 7th Avenue, all lit up in its Times Square glory. Despite the late hour, throngs of people still bustle about. Tourists, people in strange costumes, couples old and young – they’re all there basking in the unnatural glow of the city. Killian blinks once, twice, three times, overwhelmed by the technicolor advertising that lights up the area brighter than the Christmas tree. Clearly, his “in passing” view didn’t prepare him for the spectacle in all of its wonder.

When she and Henry had been living in New York, Times Square was a place she would avoid, as most New Yorkers do, but standing here with Killian, she feels almost giddy to share it with him. Since he is a visitor in this city, she might as well treat him as one, showing how him the most touristy of tourist locations. Of course, a lot of her bubbling happiness most likely stems from his resurrection, and his return to her arms after being lost in another realm. (Again.) Emma is elated to get this second chance with him, to act like tourists in the city and for her to have the opportunity to show off more of her world to him, as bright and gaudy as it may be.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, it had been Regina’s idea that the two of them get out of Neal’s apartment and find a nearby hotel room for the night. While part of it undoubtedly had to do with the former Evil Queen not wanting a reminder of what she had lost, Regina had made the suggestion with a soft smile, her own sort of olive branch. Her father, of course, had turned red in the face at the suggestion, but even he couldn’t deny the cramped nature of the apartment. Both Emma and Zelena had already needed to transfigure pieces of furniture into mattresses in an attempt to accommodate everyone, and Snow seemed hesitant to leave Regina. So, naturally, both Emma and Killian had jumped at the chance.

Emma wishes that she and Killian could have more than one night here. She longs to take him to the Met, to watch him as he studies the art and sculptures of different eras and cultures. She wants to sit with him on one of those sunset boat tours, and listen as he complains about the captain’s skills and later go quiet in awe as the skyline alights as day turns to night. She desires to tangle her fingers in his and skate around the rink at Rockefeller Center, laughing as they both fall to their knees, unable to keep upright on the ice.

Most of all, she wants some time away with him, just the two of them, so they can heal together the bruises that these past few months have wrought. Of course, their lives being the way they are, and with Rumplestiltskin AWOL for reasons most certainly nefarious, Emma knows that she must settle for tonight.

“Soooo,” she begins, drawing out the ‘o’s longer than necessary, “what do you think?”

“I would hardly think it is near midnight with all of this light,” Killian answers, craning his neck back and forth to it all in. He then looks up and frowns. “You can’t even see the stars.”

“You can’t really see them from anywhere in the city.”

“Even if one could, I imagine your spires –“

“Skyscrapers.”

“ – would block them out.”

“Yeah. They sort of do,” Emma answers, thinking back to the night she drove Henry far out of the city, just so they could lay in a field and watch a meteor shower. Outside of Orion and the Dippers, she hadn’t been able to place any of the other constellations, so they simply made up name and shapes together. She knows more now, their real names, thanks to Killian. She makes a mental note to look up the dates of the next expected meteor shower in hopes that maybe the two of them could spend some private time laying on the deck of the Jolly Roger watching the falling stars together. Yes, she definitely should arrange that.

But, for now, they are in New York City – which some would call the greatest city in the world – not Storybrooke, and Emma intends to make the most of what she has in front of her.

She tugs Killian across the street toward Duffy Square. No longer on the street corner, Killian’s eyes go wide as he takes in the entirety of brightly lit area before him. Distracted, they almost stumble into a man in what is meant to be a strange Elmo suit, who then rattles off a string of very un-Elmo-like curses. Emma half expects Killian to argue back, but he keeps he only glares and wraps his closer around her.

She leads him over the red stairs, eager to find a spot to sit and take it all in. There are quite a few people already on them, sitting, standing, taking pictures, and all of the above. She finds an available spot for just the two of them, and pulls him down to sit. Killian wastes no time placing his truncated arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his warmth. He’s not wearing his hook, despite her insistence that others likely wouldn’t even notice. Instead, it resides in her jacket pocket, the heavy weight comforting.

“This realm truly is a sight to behold,” he tells her with a bemused shake of his head. “Though I will I take some slight comfort in knowing that it is not without its on set of strange characters. It appears magic isn't the only thing that brings the crazies out.”

“You’ve been in New York before. This shouldn’t be too surprising.”

“Aye, but the last time I was here, I was too busy finding a lovely lass to truly appreciate this city’s wonders,” he answers truthfully. “Now that I’ve found her, I’m happy to take a moment to learn what your New York City has to offer.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she kisses him instead. Their lips move together, soft and slow, in a chaste dance meant to savor one another’s presence. When they break apart, he grants her a smile, a real smile, one that lets her know everything is going to be okay.

“Well, here seems to be as good a place as any,” Killian says suddenly, moving his free hand to reach for something in his pocket. There’s a small part of her that feels slightly deflated when she realizes he was only going for his phone, not anything else. He messes with the touchscreen for a moment, and to Emma’s surprise, he opens the camera app. “Everyone around us appears to be taking photographs to commemorate their time spent here. Shall we, Swan?”

She wants to laugh because Captain Hook – dreaded pirate and scourge of seas – has a sudden interest in taking selfies with her. An idea popping into her head, Emma plucks the phone from his hand and turns to the person behind them. Killian looks confused, until she says, “Hey, would you mind taking a picture of my boyfriend and I?”

The girl agrees with a smile. Emma and Killian stand as the girl takes the phone, and before she can snap a picture, Emma leans up on the tips of her toes to plant a kiss on her pirate’s cheek. She can feel his grin widen as he squeezes her closer to his side.

“I took like three,” the girl says as she hands back the phone. The pictures are good. In each of them, both her and Killian look happy and in deliriously in love with the brilliance of Time’s Square to their backs. They look especially touristy, but Emma doesn’t have the heart to care. Instead, she texts her favorite image to her own phone with the intention of printing off a copy to hang in their house when they get home.

“Lovely as ever,” Killian says as he studies the picture. He leans over and kisses her temple. “The last time I was here, I could hardly imagine anything like this.”

“Well, yeah, I kind of kneed you in the balls. That’s not a great picture-taking setup,” Emma says with a laugh, half at the absurdity of the memory, and half at Killian’s affronted expression. “I should probably make that up to you sometime.”

“Love, anytime you wish to ‘make that up to me’, please don’t stand on ceremony,” he teases, waggling his eyebrows as his voice goes low. He sobers quickly, though, a far away look in his eyes. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Your life here before I knocked on your door and you, as you so eloquently claimed, kneed me in the balls.” Killian gestures with his hand to the world around them – the streets, the lights, the people. He looks at her, blue eyes meeting her green, and she knows he’s eager and half-afraid to hear her answer. Despite everything they’ve been through together, she knows he has his own walls and fears. Maybe it’s her turn to placate them.

“I miss the not worry about people I love dying,” Emma answers truthfully. “But I like being around my family, and you.”

“If you ever did miss this place, and want to return, I would follow you, you know,” he tells her, taking his hand in her own. He places a kiss on her knuckles, soft and assuring. “I could live without the stars and with the men in strange costumes, as long as I knew you and Henry were safe and happy.”

“Well, I hope you’d be living with me,” Emma responds, knowing she is effectively killing the moment. It takes the wind out of her to know that what he asked her wasn’t because he feels insecure, but rather because he wants her to know that he would follow her anywhere. It shouldn’t surprise her, but it does. She doubts she will ever grow accustomed to having someone who wan that for her, with her. Emma likes the feeling though, loves it, and she wants him to know it. “And I would much rather us live together in that house you and Henry picked. It has way more square footage than anything we could ever afford here.”

“As you wish,” Killian tells her, and she wonders if he is intentional in his reference. He looks at her for a moment, seriously, before he reaches up and cups her chin. “I love you, Emma Swan.”

“I love you too, Killian Jones.”

Their lips meet. Too lost in one another, they fail to notice the lights around them flickering not once, but twice. They break apart, amused and partially embarrassed by the confused tourists and New Yorkers around them. Sharing a secret smile between them, head to their hotel, content to leave the city with one last bit of magic.


End file.
